Precious Last
by LovelyWeather
Summary: There is something more touching about the terror in the last cries than pity in the last words.


"**PRECIOUS LAST"**

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><p><strong>Warning: Kimbley's point of view. If that doesn't deserve a warning beforehand I don't know what does.<strong>

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><p><strong>AN: Just a quick, simple drabble, because Kimbley needs more love. :3 To those who have found this fic by my Naruto fanfic TPoL, do not fret, I'm not quitting that story. It's coming up... slowly. I just had a sudden moment of inspiration and had to write a little something for FMAB. :) **

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><p><strong>Beta-ed by the wonderful Nevervana, who is a very, very smart person. ^^<strong>

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><p>– and then it collapsed in a fit of black smoke, squishing the man against the ground and his stomach out of his mouth, before <em>his <em>_wife_-

_(furious shouting)_

Tsch, you people are making a big deal out of this. If you don't want me to tell you about it, fine. But it really was quite _touching_, you know.

Oh, pardon me, so you wanted to me to tell you their last _words?_ But I- well... I only remember their last cries. It's terribly important to me, you see. To capture that essence, to... connect with them, so to speak. It's funny, almost- it's like it makes me, if only for a second, feel human too. There is something really beautiful about a scream wrenched ripe from the very bottom of the throat, good sirs.

_(shouting intensifies; angrily)_

Didn't you hear me? I. Have. EXTRACTED. something beautiful, something pure and REAL out of that little girl's last sob, out of that old man's last choke, something about them that isn't a complete frivolity. In fact, _(a__ soft __chuckle; __turns)_ in a way I know your little brother better than you ever did, young lad—sit down! _(yelling; __boot __on __the __arm; __screech __of __metal; __riffle __connects __with __a __side __of __boy's __head;__ a __dull __thud)__ –_

… metal... _(inhale;__deeply;__exhale)_... brat...

_(urgent __murmurs)__ – __YOU_-! _(again, __struggle)__-_

_**-((a ****gunshot))-**_

_. . ._

_(silence)_

_. . ._

...you don't understand, gentlemen, you just don't get it._(a__ deep, __breathless __sigh; __continues __in __a __pleasant __tone)_ No, it isn't your fault. You live in the world of words. Crooked, accusing, sharp, loving, gentle, scolding, assuring, warm, vulgar, plain, _wrong_, passionate, insane, light, severe, stupid, dreamy, yours, his, hers. But not mine, dear ladies and gentlemen. _(rubs __the __handkerchief; __fingers __tinged __with __crimson)_

_My_ world _(a__ step;__ humming)_ is made out of something more real _(step; __closer):_ it is made out of _sounds_. It is more natural, if you think about it. It echoes the barest nature of humans, its conflicts, war, passion, I dare even say, _aggression. __(gliding __fingers __on __the __wall; __blood__ smears __in __red __lines)_

Only I know to enjoy it so fully. That particular cry of our nature._ (scribble) _Mixed with that creamy, musky scent of gunpowder. _(a__ circle; __line, __line)_ The destructive rumble beneath my feet. _(presses__ hands __together)_ Melodious tempest in my ear. _(triangle; __glowing: __red, __**red, **__**RED-**__)_ Bang, bang. _Screams._

**(((RED!)))**

_(Kimbley smiles.)_

And light.

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><p><em>"Ahh, what a nice sound... Truly, a nice sound that resonates throughout the depths of the body. My spinal cord dances in sadness and my eardrums tremble in delight. And the joy of being able to feel that on this earth where it is always partnered with death... What a fulfilling job!" <em>by Solf J. Kimbley

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><p><strong>Inspired by the fanfic 'All sick senses' by Possibility Girl. I suggest you Kimbley-fans check it out. 's gonna be epic.<strong>

**Kimbley loves monologues. Anybody notice a hint that one of the prisoners was Ed? No? Didn't think so. Don't get me wrong, I adore Ed an' all, but... well... Kimbley doesn't. :-/ **

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><p><strong>Leave a quick, simple review please. ^^ A few words won't kill you if it didn't kill me...<strong>


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